Wheels Up

by Annabeth Albert

  “I called my old friend Paul. I’m going to do some security contract consulting for him. Get my feet wet in the private sector, see if that feels right to me. If it doesn’t, who knows? Maybe I’ll go back to school. All I know is that I have to keep trying until I find something that feels better than the last few years have. I’m not going to sleepwalk through my life anymore.”

  “But...” Wes licked his lower lip, and the urge to kiss him was almost overwhelming. “They were going to give you your own team. How do you know that that’s not what you needed? That could have been your purpose, what you were waiting for.”

  “I suppose,” Dustin allowed, shrugging. “But I couldn’t stick around to find out. And talking to Paul, I think I’ll have all the challenge I need if I want it. I’m tired of feeling jealous when I talk to him about his life without the navy’s hoops. This isn’t a zero-sum game. I’ll have more flexibility in the private sector, and they can use my skill set. Might be a win-win.”

  “I just can’t...” Swallowing hard, Wes looked away. “You say this isn’t about me, but it is. And I’m not worth you tossing your career away over. I’m not.” His voice broke, making Dustin’s chest clench.

  “You are. We are. What we have together is. Most people never find a connection like ours. You’re crazy if you don’t think that’s worth fighting for. And you...you’re amazing.” Dustin struggled to find a way to put his feelings in words. It was easier, laying out the logical reasons for his decision than chipping away at the real center of his emotions the past few weeks. “You inspire me. You make me laugh. You listen better than anyone I’ve ever met. And you too are a hell of an operator. If anyone is worth this, it’s you. But I won’t have you drowning yourself in guilt. Tell me to fuck off, tell me there’s no chance of anything between us, tell me that it really was just sex. I’m still doing this.”

  “It wasn’t just sex,” Wes muttered. “And if saying that made you distracted out on the mission—”

  “You said what you had to. Neither of us needed a formal investigation. Ending it was the only choice right then.” Dustin really didn’t harbor any anger toward Wes, not anymore.

  “And now? Where do we go from here?” Wes reached for him for the first time since his arrival. Only a fingertip trailing down Dustin’s cheek, but the contact electrified him. God, he’d missed Wes so fucking much.

  “I’m not sure,” Dustin admitted. “Me leaving—it doesn’t neutralize the risk to you completely. They could still go after you. Or try to reactivate me so they could sanction me. I’d understand if you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “I can’t... I can’t walk away. Not right now. Not without touching you one more time.” Wes’s eyes were narrow and serious and filled with a pain that Dustin was sure mirrored his own. Fuck. This sucked. And Dustin had known before he’d called Paul, before he’d announced his decision, that this might not be enough to salvage what they had. The risks were still there—rules and regulations unchanged by the depth of their feelings.

  So he couldn’t force Wes to leap enthusiastically at his announcement, couldn’t make him want to try for a future, however murky and tenuous. But he could ask him for one more kiss. One more act of desperation. Not sure he trusted his legs to move, he pulled Wes off the couch, landing in an inelegant sprawl on the rug, Wes on top of him, peering down.

  “Hi.” Wes blinked.

  “Hi,” Dustin said back, mouth all dry and cottony with longing.

  “Fuck. I missed you.” Wes’s eyes shone. “Should have said that first thing. But hell, you pissed me off. Still don’t think—”

  “Don’t think. Not right now.” Dustin tugged him down until their faces were level. “Just...” Stay with me. Give us this. Just tonight. Don’t make me be alone quite yet.

  “Yeah.” As always, Wes could read his mind, delve into everything Dustin had to leave unspoken. “I’m here.”

  And that was enough. For right now, that was enough. Wes closed the gap between them, rubbing his mouth across Dustin’s, a glancing, almost tentative contact. Dustin couldn’t stop his exhale, relief coursing through him as his body remembered everything it loved about Wes—the weight of him on top of Dustin, the strength in the arm he was bracing himself with, the softness of his mouth, the slowness and connection of their bodies. No rushing. They were always so pressed for time, yet Wes’s kisses always made him feel like they had forever.

  Wes traced his lips with his tongue, gently seeking, and Dustin welcomed him eagerly. “Missed this,” he mumbled right before Wes deepened the kiss.

  “Me too.” Wes sucked on his lower lip before releasing it. “Dreamed about you. Every damn night. But my dreams never got your taste right. Never got your feel. Never got this...” Wes shook his head.

  “I know.” Dustin pulled him back down for another kiss, this one more urgent. He’d dreamed about Wes too. Memories of his voice and touch that made him wake up and punch the mattress, loss fresh. His waking mind might someday find a way forward, but Wes was always going to own a chunk of his soul, haunt his dreams. And he tried to tell him that with his kiss, tried to tell him that he wasn’t ever forgetting him. That if all they got was this one last kiss, it was enough. Just to have had him, however briefly, it was worth it.

  Their mouths knew each other, knew their taste, knew what their bodies needed, even more than their brains. Screw logic. They just worked, on a level that Dustin had never had with anyone before.

  Breathing in tandem, they kissed until Dustin’s mouth felt as bruised and swollen as his heart. And still he wasn’t stopping. His hands skimmed down Wes’s sides, tugging at his shirt. “Need you.”

  “Yeah.” Wes helped him out, pulling the shirt off, leaving them with him in his jeans and Dustin in his pajama pants. “We’re gonna get all filthy, rolling around on your floor. Want your bed.”

  It wasn’t a question as much as an admission—they both knew where this thing was heading, sanity be damned.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They made their way to Dustin’s room, stopping every few feet to kiss and touch. If they separated for more than ten seconds, Wes’s lips and skin seemed to rebel, requiring him to pull Dustin closer for another embrace. The saner part of Wes knew this was crazy. Hell, even just coming here was stupid. He’d parked a mile away, wore all black, but he was still taking a risk. Staying was even more insane, but hell if he had it in him to leave. Not yet.

  “My turn.” Dustin shoved Wes onto the bed, then knelt in front of him.

  “Your turn for what?” Wes played dumb, trying to pull Dustin up next to him. But damn, he really was a heavy fucker.

  “This.” Dustin’s hands went to Wes’s fly. “You never let me explore. Why is that?”

  “Don’t like losing control,” Wes admitted. “You need me in control. Control you. Control the scene. Control myself. It’s what you need from me—”

  “That what you think? You think I need some sort of perfect dominant?” Dustin shook his head.

  “You gotta admit, kink is what drew us together.” God, airing these thoughts and worries was almost harder than confronting Dustin about his leaving the navy—at least then he’d had anger on his side, shielding him from this raw, exposed feeling.

  “Sure,” Dustin agreed. “Maybe at first. But it’s not all of us, or all of what I want—need—from you. I need you. Not some dom fantasy. Not the kink.”

  “The kink’s pretty awesome though, right?” Wes took a shaky breath, not ready to deal with the gravity of Dustin’s words. Or actions. Didn’t matter what Dustin said, he was leaving the service because of him. For him. For them. Whatever. Wes was all kinds of wrapped up in that decision, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it.

  “Very.” Dustin nipped at his lip. “But you’re not listening. I’m here for you—not the guy who can tie
me up and boss me around. That’s part of it, sure. But I want all of you. All of us.”

  There can’t be an us. Wes needed to remind him that, but he couldn’t bring himself to snap the ugly words out. For right now, for however much longer, he wanted to pretend. So he nodded.

  “Let me?” Dustin reached again for Wes’s zipper, and this time he didn’t bat his hands away. Helped even, shimmying out of his jeans while Dustin stripped off his flannel pants.

  “This is what I want.” Naked now, Dustin stretched out next to him on the bed, pulled Wes close. “We can be extra-super kinky later.”

  There might not be a later. Wes’s throat closed around the words. “You’ll owe me,” he ground out instead.

  “Is it so awful?” Dustin asked, coasting his hands down Wes’s sides. “Being touched?”

  “No, not awful.” Terrible. Lovely. Aching. He leaned into the touch, soaking it up like sunshine in January. He’d store all this up. Didn’t matter how hard tenderness was for him, he wanted it all tonight, wanted every last sweet thing Dustin needed to give him.

  Hands continuing to roam, Dustin kissed him, softly with the sort of possessiveness Wes usually reserved for himself, but he let Dustin get away with it. Just this once.

  Eventually, Dustin’s lips found new territory to explore, kissing Wes’s neck, skating over the stubble on his jaw because he’d kept forgetting to shave while Sam was in the hospital. He kissed Wes’s collarbones making Wes’s eyes squish shut, unable to hold all his emotions back watching Dustin treat him so carefully.

  Experimentally, Dustin licked at one of Wes’s nipples, and he laughed, relieved to have an excuse. “Ticklish. And not nearly the hot spot for me that they are for you.”

  “Darn.” Dustin grinned up at him. “I’ll just have to find something else to lick.”

  “I’m not sure...” Wes started as Dustin kissed a determined path down his stomach, heading straight for Wes’s dick which bobbed against his stomach, far more eager than the rest of him.

  “I am.” Dustin stroked Wes’s cock, grip surprisingly gentle. “Never done this before, so you’ll get to tell me all the ways I’m doing it wrong and get your bossy freak on while I have fun. Win-win.”

  “Something tells me you’re going to be a natural,” Wes groaned as Dustin dipped his head, tongue tracing Wes’s crown. “I’d tell you to do what you like, but you are not tying me up, and my balls aren’t nearly the pain sluts that yours are.”

  “Let’s see how long you can keep being a smart ass with your dick in my mouth.” No more warning than that, Dustin took him deep, deeper than Wes could have with no practice, that was for damn sure.

  “Show-off,” he muttered.

  Dustin hummed happily around his cock, getting his tongue in on the action. Clearly, this was a guy who’d paid attention to every good blow job he’d ever received, setting a slow but steady rhythm with hard suction and little rubs and flicks of his tongue. He used his fist to keep Wes from going too deep, but the tight, sure grip just added to the ripples of pleasure spreading up Wes’s spine.

  “That’s it. Feels so good,” he groaned, unable to hold the praise back.

  “I love this,” Dustin pulled back long enough to report.

  And I love you too, you gorgeous loon. Wes laughed to keep the words and emotion at bay. “Thought you might.”

  “And what? No pointers? I’m disappointed.” Dustin licked up the underside of Wes’s shaft, making him shiver.

  Wes let his hand come to rest on the back of Dustin’s head. “Going for extra credit, huh? Want me to thrust?”

  “Fuck yeah.” Dustin’s eagerness was downright adorable.

  “Relax your jaw more and watch the teeth, and try to move as I do.” Wes rocked his ass, a slow thrust into the waiting heat of Dustin’s mouth. Second thrust and Dustin caught on, sucking hard on the retreat, following him back up. “That’s it. Perfect.”

  Wes wasn’t as vocal as Dustin in bed, but he couldn’t keep the groans and gasps in as they found a perfect rhythm, Dustin moaning around his cock every time Wes got louder. “Can you come this way?” he pulled back to ask. “Tell me what to do to make that happen.”

  Wes swallowed hard. He probably could get off this way—Dustin’s mouth was hot and willing and knowing it was Dustin’s first time was a turn-on in and of itself. But a different need had taken hold, a deeper craving, one he wasn’t sure he could give voice to, but he also wasn’t sure he could walk away without having it.

  “Yeah?” Dustin prompted as Wes struggled to find the words.

  Now or never. And it was the never that gave him pause. Can’t have that. “Fuck me,” he whispered.

  Dustin’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? You don’t have to—”

  Wes growled. He was not working so hard to get the request out just to have Dustin talk him out of it. “Do it. You still have stuff, right?”

  “Yeah.” As always, Dustin took the order well, scrambling to get a condom and lube from the nightstand. Supplies in hand, he knelt over Wes, looking down with a serious, unreadable expression on his face. “How do I make this good for you? Tell me. I want it right.”

  Wes exhaled, a shaky sound somewhere between a laugh and cry. It was that earnestness that told him that he’d made the right choice, asking for this. They both needed this, and he wanted to give this—no, share this with Dustin in the worst way.

  “Gimme.” He motioned at the lube. Another time—please God, let there be another time—he’d talk Dustin through fingering, but now he was impatient, not really in the mood for lengthy prep and play, more about getting Dustin inside him as fast as he could. He might not be as into ass play as much as Dustin, but he knew how to lube and stretch himself efficiently.

  “Fuck. That’s like first-class live action porn right there. Gonna get me off.” Dustin’s face was full of need. He had the condom on, hand idly stroking himself as he watched Wes.

  “Better not,” Wes warned, withdrawing his fingers.

  “How do...what position?” Dustin’s forehead wrinkled. Ordinarily, Wes would flip, but here, he wanted everything, wanted to watch Dustin’s face the whole time, wanted to see him go.

  He grabbed Dustin’s spare pillow, shoved it under his ass. “Like this. And I’m not gonna break, but slow to start is good.”

  “Slow. Got it.” Dustin’s face was slack with naked hunger as he pushed back one of Wes’s legs, exposing him, a sensation Wes usually disliked, but here all he felt was relief—relief that he was here, that they were doing this, that if nothing else they got to share this.

  Dustin entered him slowly, but steadily—a quiet build of pressure as Wes’s body struggled to accommodate the intrusion. “That’s it,” he encouraged.

  “Oh fuck. Wes.” Dustin’s voice broke as Wes’s body got its act together and let him slide past the tight ring of muscle.

  “Not too fast,” Wes reminded him even as he thrilled to watch Dustin struggle to keep control.

  “Trying,” Dustin groaned. “Christ. You’re tight. Feels so good.”

  Wes heard from other guys that getting fucked lit them up, better than a blow job and birthday party rolled together, but he’d never quite had that experience. It felt good, no question, but it also put him on an emotional edge he was never exactly sure he liked.

  But with Dustin that edge took on a new dimension, a raw connection that part of him wanted to get lost in, tumble into it, never come back out. Physically, it was the same—insistent pressure, intense stretch, little glances of pleasure when Dustin connected with his gland, but emotionally, this was a far different beast than he’d ever encountered.

  Dustin experimented with the angle over his next few thrusts, bending Wes’s legs farther back. “Like this?” he asked.

  “Doing great,” Wes assured him. And he was. Not just be
cause the guy was a natural sex God, but because he was him, because this was them, together.

  “Oh fuck, feels so good. Tell me...tell me what you need.” Dustin’s breath was coming in little pants, grip on Wes’s legs tightening.

  “Harder. You can go harder now.” Wes loved how Dustin was still relying on him to control things, looking to him for guidance. Somehow that made this whole thing that much sexier, knowing that he could make an order and Dustin would follow it, no questions.

  “Yeah.” Dustin thrust deeper now, not quite hammering full-strength, but getting there. His face scrunched up. Moving one of his hands from Wes’s leg, he fisted his cock. “What else?”

  Watching Dustin’s control unravel was seriously all Wes needed at that moment, but he didn’t push the hand away. “Faster. Go faster.”

  “Fuck. Not gonna last if I do,” Dustin groaned, keeping the same slow, impossibly deep rhythm.

  “It’s okay. Wanna watch you go,” Wes assured him.

  “Not. Without. You,” Dustin ground out.

  “Trust me. You going is gonna get me close. You can get me after.” The need to watch Dustin lose control clawed at him, made him clutch at Dustin’s shoulders, pull him deeper, squeeze him tighter.

  “Fuck. Not playing fair,” Dustin groaned, finally, finally, speeding up, rhythm stuttering as he groaned.

  “That’s it. Go hard,” Wes urged. Watching Dustin unravel, watching those big muscles bunch and tense, eyes squish shut, breath huff like a tank going uphill, was one of the sexiest things Wes had ever experienced.

  “Tell. Me. Tell me what you need,” Dustin begged.

  “Hard. Don’t stop.”

  “More. Tell me more.” Dustin was speeding up now, finesse leaving his strokes, which only made Wes harder, made him crazier.

  “Need you,” Wes admitted. “Just you. Oh fuck. Like that.”

  “You’ve got me. So much.” Dustin groaned with each heavy word, eyes fluttering open to meet Wes’s, stark truth there.